


Things to Come

by bradley_hand



Series: Things to Come| Undertale Fic [4]
Category: Undertale
Genre: Domestic Undertale, Gen, Heart Sex (Undertale), Hotland (Undertale), Inspired By Undertale, Multi, Neutral Route (Undertale), Post-Neutral Route (Undertale), Post-Undertale, The Underground (Undertale), Undertale References, Undertale Spoilers, newborn soul, soul birth, soul conception
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-01-31
Updated: 2016-01-31
Packaged: 2018-05-17 11:57:55
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,751
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5868505
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/bradley_hand/pseuds/bradley_hand
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The skeleton held open his hand, the purple soul floundered in his palm, caressing his bones and taking in his essence. He pressed his face into it, feeling its warmth against his cheek but the soul itself was cold, only soothed by the glow that surrounded it. It had no other protection from outside forces, no body to call its own, and no name to answer to. This was why soul births were rare and hard, but Papyrus knew what needed to be done in order to save the new born soul.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Things to Come

Sans cradled his face in his hands, drifting between sleep and worry, though his soul knew which one would win. He lifted his head up, peering over the pile of books that covered Alphys's desk. He had given up hours ago on trying to understand ancient gibberish and hypothetical monster nonsense. He appreciated Toriel for bringing them the books, with her hope that they could find peace within the pages, while she took care of business in the Capital. Though, at that point, Sans had only found himself crippled by the harsh wordings of the tomes. He prayed for Toriel's return, recalling her promise to be back in a few days to check on Frisk's condition, so she was due at any moment.

The smaller skeleton shifted his sockets from the desk over to his brother, who had been pouring everything he had into pages and page of old text. Sans honestly thought Pap's skull would explode from all the information he was taking in. A sigh escaped his ribcage, and his thoughts spilled through his teeth.

"I don't know why your still trying...It's not like any of this matters anyway..."

Papyrus didn't look up from his book. "OF COURSE IT MATTERS, SANS!" he cackled. "BY READING WE CAN HELP FRISK WHEN IT COMES TIME FOR THE SOUL TO..." He paused, skimming over a passage. "UM...'VACATE THE VESSEL'!" Papyrus smiled, proud of his superior knowledge of the soul.

Sans clinched his fists, his knuckles clacking against the desk. "Frisk isn't a vessel...They’re a person."

The rattle of bone against wood pulled Pap's attention up. He frowned, a bundle of concern forming in his chest. "I...I KNOW THAT, SANS. I DIDN'T MEAN-"

"No. All these books say the same thing, just in different ways. Vessel this, container that, jeroboam whatever the hell it is. Like Frisk isn't even a person! Like they're just something that carries around the soul until it's ready to come out!" Sans's soul glowed bright from under his t-shirt, burning against his ribs as if in need of release. He placed a bony hand over it and stood from the table.

Papyrus slunk down in his chair, watching his brother's state of mind crumble. His brother had never yelled at him before, usually it was the other way around but he had never been directly mean to Sans. He once more dropped his eyes down to his book, pressing a place holder into the break in the spine before closing it. "Maybe we just need a break." he spoke to the cover in soft words, his usual high pitch voice hushed by fear. He didn't think his brother would physically hurt him, but by the tone of his voice, Papyrus didn't want to test his patience.

Sans kept his hand on his heart, not sparing a glance to his brother. "I can't do this anymore, Pap." he said finally, his eye sockets now hollow and void of feeling.

"You should try to get some sleep. You haven't had a decent nights rest since this whole thing started. I'll keep an eye on Frisk-"

"No, Pap. I need to be here in case something happens..." he shook his head. "But like I said, I honestly don't think it matters. If these books are right, then Frisk will die once that...that THING comes out of them..." he visibly shook once the words left his mouth. It wasn't like they could just reset everything and start over, they couldn't control when a reset came, it had been so long since the last one that Sans wondered if the outside force that controlled it had forgotten about them all together. It had been perfect up until then, and he wasn't sure who to blame, other than himself.

The pitter patter of feet caused the brothers to turn, meeting Alphys's worried visage. "Is-Is everything o-okay?"

Papyrus opened his mouth but Sans spoke first. "Yeah, everything's dandy." he grumbled, walking past the doctor and into Frisk's room.

Alphys blinked, looking to Papyrus who shrugged. "HE'S NOT TAKING IT WELL." he sighed. "HE THINKS FRISK IS GOING TO...die..."

Alphys trembled. "D-die!? N-no! Frisk can't die! What would happen to the rest of us? Or the soul? Would the soul die too?" she rambled, unable to stop the questions that flooded her troubled mind.

"A LOT OF THESE BOOKS SAY THAT WHOEVER HOLDS THE 'NEW SOUL' FACES DEATH ONCE IT LEAVES THEIR BODY. BUT," he opened the book back to the page he had marked. He traced his finger along the outline of an illustration of a monster with a heart coming out of their chest. "THIS SAYS, A BEING WITH A POWERFUL SOUL CAN SURVIVE EVEN THE WORST OF SOUL BIRTHS." A smile returned to him. "AND WE ALL KNOW HOW STRONG OF A SOUL FRISK HAS, MISGUIDED AT TIMES, BUT STRONG NONE THE LESS." Alphys raised a hand to her cheek, finding some comfort in Papyrus's smile. "SO I BELIEVE THAT FRISK WILL SURVIVE THIS! AND THE NEW SOUL TOO! EVEN IF SANS CAN'T SEE IT YET...ONCE HE MEETS THE NEW SOUL, I KNOW HE'LL LOVE THEM AS MUCH AS HE LOVES FRISK...IF NOT MORE..."

 

Sans hated it. All he could do as he sat next to Frisk was glare into their soul at the small purple shape that he had created. His heart continued to gleam which gave Frisk's soul an invitation to do the same. The Purple Heart had definitely grown over the past four days, and from the way Toriel had described it, it wouldn't be much longer before the soul would force its way out of Frisk. Sans felt his eye twitch at the thought of this worthless soul ripping apart the person he loved more than anything in the whole world.

"No," he whispered, his glare softening as he watched the tiny heart pulse. "I can't be mad at you for it. I don't know what I did, but this is my fault." The soul drifted from one side of Frisk's soul to the other, as if listening to Sans's grief. It rippled Frisk's soul, reflecting the red haze of its parent. Sans reached out a finger to touch the soul, cautious and slow as not to hurt it. The purple heart recoiled, its core blinking a golden warning. "I'm not going to hurt you..." Hearing Sans's words, the soul edged closer to his finger, pausing underneath it. "Weird," The skeleton tilted his head, giving the soul a slight poke. "You’re warm?"

The soul did it's best to press against Sans's finger bone, but it couldn't feel anything, not with Frisk's own soul still encapsulating it. All it could do was warm the surface of Frisk's soul and try to force itself out. The warmth gradually turned into heat which became a cold fire that burned through the red soul and out onto Sans's hand. The skeleton jerked his hand back, golden wisps wrapping around his fingers and dispersing through his knuckles. He looked back at Frisk's glowing chest then down to his own, his soul lighting up half the room in a blue cloud of uncertainty. He continued to watch the purple soul for a moment longer, pondering its escape attempt until a realization paralyzed him. It was trying to get out.

He pushed himself up from his chair and made a bee line straight for the door, barely getting out of the room before he began to scream. "Alphys! Papyrus!" he braced himself against the doorframe, getting twisted looks from both his brother and the doctor. "I-I think it's trying to come out...!"

Alphys shuffled to Frisk's room, stumbling past Sans who continued to lean into the doorway. Papyrus once more closed the book he was reading and stood, keeping a firm grip on the volume. He went to Sans, placing a hand on his shoulder. He offered his brother a smile but it did little to sooth the pain forming behind his ribs.

"IT'LL BE ALRIGHT." Papyrus patted Sans's shoulder before turning him around and herding him back into the room.

They were greeted by a frantic Alphys, who hurriedly pressed pillows behind Frisk to boost them up in bed. The human slumped a bit but raised their head just enough to peek at Sans and Papyrus. A tiny smile spread across Frisk's face, their soul over joyed to see them again after days of drifting through the void. The two brothers moved to Frisk's side, the shorter of the two gripping the human's hand.

"Hey, kid. You gave all of us quite a scare..." Sans mumbled, but Frisk heard him.

They winced an apology, and placed a hand on their chest, over the glowing souls. Frisk scrunched their nose as the purple soul continued to push against the outlining of their being. It was such a strange feeling to have something swimming around inside of them, like a fish caught in jelly. They spared a pained glance down to hearts, the mixture of the two souls’ colors reassuring them that all was well, even through the tension Frisk felt, they were beginning to understand what needed to happen.

The light grew brighter, and Frisk finally felt their soul give way to the smaller one that inhabited it. The outer lining of the ethereal heart snapped, sending a rush of red from Frisk's chest that seeped through their clenched fingers. They closed their eyes, feeling the full force of the unborn soul upon their palm, so small yet so ready to be free. Frisk channeled every ounce of strength they could find in an attempt to help the soul find its way, but it didn't seem to want to budge any further. A heavy breath left them and hazy eyes starred up at the skeleton brothers, begging for help.

Sans shook his head, only able to squeeze Frisk's hand and stare as the travail commenced. Papyrus, however, arched his eye sockets and stood up straight, forcing his own worry down in order to save Frisk and the soul.

"ALPHYS," he said abruptly, startling the poor dino who to had been watching from afar. "CALL TORIEL, TELL HER WE NEED HER ASSISTANCE!" he ordered, and the doctor fumbled out of the room to do his bidding. The skeleton moved to the other side of the bed, laying down the book he had been holding and turning to the pages that had captivated him for almost two days.

Countless illustrations of souls, hearts, and monsters lined the parchment, aged and torn from ancient use. Lines of text, scribbled in a language most foreign to lay monsters, explained birthing rituals and complications with such things. Although the writing was strange, Papyrus was familiar with this form of scrawl, all too familiar as it were. He read over a passage then looked up to Frisk, their face still unpleasant from the pressure of the birth. Papyrus cleared his throat and stared at his brother.

"I NEED YOU TO PROP FRISK UP, SANS." he ordered but Sans remained still. "SANS! IF YOU WANT TO HELP FRISK, YOU NEED TO LISTEN TO ME!"

His jaw cracked as he nodded, moving from his chair to sit beside Frisk on the bed. As gently as he could, he moved behind Frisk, using himself as a pillow for the human. He refused to let go of Frisk's trembling hand, even after moving around them and finding his seating uncomfortable. It wasn't his well-being he was worried about, after all. Frisk leaned back into Sans chest, feeling the heat from his soul against the back of their head. It was comforting to feel a familiar presence so close to them, and somehow, they knew it helped the unborn soul just as much.

Papyrus watched Sans fuss over Frisk for but a brief moment before tracing a few lines in the book. "NOW," he started. "FRISK, I NEED YOU TO REMOVE YOUR HAND..." Both of the inhabitants of the bed stared up at him confused. He could only sigh and offer Frisk's head a light pat. "I know it hurts," he whispered, placing his free hand over Frisk's. "But it will help. I promise."

Frisk allowed Papyrus to remove their hand from their chest, revealing their soul and its' entirety. A rose color blaze poured out once the blockage was removed, and the soul once again began pressing itself against the break in the lining. Frisk's hand reflexively began to cover it again but Sans grabbed the troublesome hand and held it steady. Papyrus took another glance at the book before inhaling and pressing two fingers against Frisk's soul, one on either side of the opening. He stretched it, taking steps to not cause Frisk anymore pain than they were already in. He searched for the tiny soul, unable to find its glow among the red aura, until a faint purple hue shone through the opening.

Papyrus smiled. "There you are." he spoke to the soul in hushed words of an ancient tongue, knowing only his brother would understand what he was saying. "You're safe, come out."

The purple soul listened, a golden shine engulfing it as it became visible outside of Frisk's soul. Piece by piece, Papyrus could see more of the new born soul with each little push and tug. It was small, deformed, and in the final moments, hesitant of leaving the safety of the soul's womb.

"You'll be safe here." he ushered the soul, pressing his fingers against Frisk's soul one last time to ease the new born out. "I'll protect you..." The slurred promise rested upon the tiny soul as it slipped into Papyrus's hand, blinking a golden light from its core that warmed not only his palm, but his own soul. He pulled his hand away from Frisk's soul, which immediately began to mend itself once it realized that the being was now gone.

Frisk winced, resting their head back into Sans, trying to stay awake. With the new soul having been removed, Frisk felt an emptiness that was new and terrifying. They could feel the seams of their soul bleed and curl back into its original form, though they knew a piece was missing. They didn't even need to look to know that the new born soul had managed to sneak away with a part of themselves. But Frisk did spare a look, not to their soul, but to Papyrus and their child.

The skeleton held open his hand, the purple soul floundered in his palm, caressing his bones and taking in his essence. He pressed his face into it, feeling its warmth against his cheek but the soul itself was cold, only soothed by the glow that surrounded it. It had no other protection from outside forces, no body to call its own, and no name to answer to. This was why soul births were rare and hard, and Papyrus had known ever since his discussion with Toriel. Sans hadn't been involved, his mind too corrupted with pessimistic thoughts to focus on anything important or lifesaving.

"The soul will need a body," Toriel had told him, when she brought the piles of books from the palace. "And the only way that will happen is if they take Frisk's if they...Do not make it." she had paused, touching Papyrus's right hand. "Or someone must give up a part of themselves, for them to live." At first he hadn't understood, but he soon realized what she meant. It had been the same way him and his brother had been born, by the sacrifice of someone long since passed on to the void. Someone had given up part of their being to create him and Sans, and now it was their turn to do the same for the nameless child.

Fear clutched his spine but he knew it needed to be done. He looked to Sans and Frisk, both their faces showered in concern over the quality of the new soul, its frail appearance startling to say the least.

"Pap..." Sans watched his brother's demeanor change from joy to anguish. "What's wrong with it?"

Papyrus closed his eyes before leaning over to hand the battered soul to Frisk, who held out their hands to accept their new born. Their lip quivered as the tiny soul rolled about, pausing to nuzzle against their hand. Sans stared at the purple heart, able to feel its golden glimmer without even touching it. He once more looked to Papyrus, his visage bleak.

"Is it going to die...?"

"Yes..." Papyrus spoke, but did not spare a glance to his brother. He watched the wisp of gold that the soul had left curl around his finger bones and tangle itself inside of his wrist. He heard Frisk begin to weep, looking up from the golden smoke to watch them bury their face into the new soul. Papyrus felt his faith wane for a moment, but swallowed and shook his head. "There's something we can do to save it, but I don't know-"

"Tell me." Sans cut off his brother, placing a hand on Frisk's head. "Tell me how...I don't care what it is, just tell me!"

Papyrus frowned, thinking for a moment before speaking, once again in their old twisted language. "You know how we were born, yes?"

Sans shuddered, the sharpness of the tongue piercing his ear holes. It had been a long time since he had heard it spoken directly, but he was beginning to understand what had to be done.

"Yes," he replied, reflecting his brother's language. "I know..."

"Then you know we must..."

"Why not just me? This was my fault, they're part of me."

"Because I don't think you'll live, Sans. Besides, If one of us did it on our own, we'd lose all of our magic, and you know we need it in case," Papyrus stopped, recalling times before. "In case of a reset..."

His brother pondered words but shook his head instead. He once more fixated on Frisk and the tiny soul, feeling his heart ache at the sight of such pain. He didn't want it to die, even if he had hated it before, it was his child and he wanted them to have a chance.

He closed his eyes, breathed in a shaky breath, and pulled himself up from behind Frisk and off the bed. Frisk turned their head, their face red from crying and highlighted from the gilded aura of the wounded soul. It lay tired and motionless, but still clung to live, though the skeletons were not sure how long that would last.

Sans remained silent, depending on Papyrus's knowledge to guide him through the process. He was scared, and half expected it not to work and for everything they had done to be in vain. But he had to hope he was wrong, and that their magic could stabilize the soul.

His brother touched Frisk's shoulder. "Let us see it, Frisk." Papyrus murmured, tilting his head as the human lifted their head away from the soul. The brother's shared a distant stare and a knowing nod before the younger brother sighed. "LET’S BEGIN THEN."

Papyrus placed his left hand over the purple soul, summoning power from his very core that took the form of an orange mist that contorted and whirled around the new born. Peach smoke began to bellow from Papyrus's socket, once more filling the room with a soothing light. Sans was apprehensive about using his magic, unsure if he would even be able to participate fully. His skill in healing or anything remotely similar had always been lacking compared to Papyrus's, but he knew he had to at least try. He too rested a hand above the soul, closing his eyes against the the power that rushed outwards from his own soul. A light blue haze mingled with the orange mist, twirling around the golden light that pulsed from Sans's child, or what would soon be his child. How they were really supposed to be, instead of a bodiless being with no fate or future beyond the void.

This notion pulled further power from Sans, his eye aflame with passion for his new love, for his new hope that lingered in the form of a golden string that wisped around his and Papyrus's hands. The auric light attached itself to the skeletons' hands, binding itself with the brothers and preparing itself for the transformation that was about to take place. The soul itself remained still, blinking a mixture of the three colors that drifted around it.

Suddenly, the brother's felt their power shift and the golden light that connected them to the new born soul began to dissolve the center of their hands. Tiny flakes from the skeletons' palms floated and pieced themselves together around the soul, steadily forming the child's bones, organs, and eventually their skin. The three of them watched on, the monsters feeling the drain of their magic while the human stared in amazement at the child that had begun to form from such a pitiful being. The baby was still small, but they now had the appearance of a human child, somewhat anyway. As the tiniest pieces of Papyrus and Sans's palms abandoned them and pieced together the babe's face, the brothers withdrew their hands, disconnecting their powers from the aurelian string that had stolen a portion of their magic. The golden hue hovered, as if confused, before embracing the child and filling in as many gaps as it could with what strength it had left. A few splotches of bone were covered while many were left unfinished and skeletal.

The babe's soul now reflected their appearance, neither human nor monster, but gentle and soft all the same. There hadn't been enough power left to cover their left arm and right leg in skin or muscle, so only small bones remained visible, skin on the shoulder and hip being the only thing securing them to the child's body. Their face was mostly human, apart from the left side of their face being covered in skin while their right cheek bone showed and an ear was missing all together, replaced by a hole where one would have been. The golden light that hugged the child began to fade, resting its final rays upon the child's head, leaving them with a small patch of golden hair before dying out.

The brothers wheezed, the youngest sitting down in a chair while the other panted over top of the child and Frisk. Papyrus shivered looking down at his now useless hand, a large hole making itself at home where his palm had once been. He stared through it, down at his boots and wondered if it had all been worth it. He raised his eyes to the child, their deformed body trembling from the slightest breeze. A smile found its way to his face as he removed his scarf and took the baby from Frisk.

"HERE..." he wrapped the child up nice and comfy, placing his holy hand on their bony cheek. Sans could only blink but gazed down at his own hand, feeling Frisk touch it. They traced the void but smiled, tears welling in their eyes. Despite his lost energy and everything that had happened, Sans managed a genuine smile and looked on as Papyrus laid the swaddled babe back into Frisk's arms.

"IT'S A GIRL...I THINK." Papyrus grinned, a peach blush covering his cheeks. Frisk raised the scarf a bit, then wrapped it back around the child's bottom half. They nodded, sharing in Papyrus's embarrassment. "WOWIE! I HAVE A NIECE!"

Sans ran his fingers through what little hair his daughter had, which caused her to stir. A small cough left her, followed by her first breath and a whine that pierced the quiet of the lab. Frisk held her close to their chest, shushing them and rubbing her back. The baby grunted but hushed her fuss and opened her eyes. Empty sockets housed tiny orbs that reflected the powers that had been given to save her: her right eye orange, while the other glowed blue, like her father's. She blinked up at Frisk before sniffling and turning her head to get a better look at Sans.

"H-hey, there." he stammered, nervousness rattling his bones. "What's up, kiddo." He brushed her cheek gently. The babe's eyes drooped but she graced Sans with a crooked smile before yawning and resting her head back against Frisk's chest.

The skeletons shared a hopeful glance before footsteps outside the door, pulled their attention elsewhere. Alphys stood in the doorway, in shock of what she saw and had been listening too. But she wasn't alone. Both the King and Queen stood behind her, smiles wide and pride gleaming in their eyes. Alphys stumbled to the corner of the room, allowing them access to Frisk and the skeletons.

"W-what on Earth happened!?" she squeaked, then cupped her hands over her mouth noticing the small lump that Frisk held. "O-oh! S-so-sorry.....!!" she whispered.

Frisk nodded, the child unphased by the noise but curious about all the activity that was going on around her. Papyrus simply waved his crippled hand to the King and Queen unable to stand or say much of anything else as he regained what strength he could. It would take him and Sans a while to replenish what they had given to the baby, and some of it would be gone forever. But he knew it was well worth the sacrifice, to see the little one smile.

Toriel placed a hand on Pap's shoulder then leaned down and hugged the skeleton. "I'm so proud of you two." she cooed.

Asgore peeked over Sans's shoulder at the little girl. "You two made a tough decision," he mumbled, his deep voice vibrating Sans's skull. "But you did well." he too placed a hand on Sans's shoulder and received a nod from the tired skeleton. "But there's something even harder you have to decide now." The goat king grinned, and Toriel rolled her eyes at him, though he had a point.

"Yes, indeed." she said, leaving Papyrus and moving to Frisk's side. She rubbed the baby's forehead, amazed at how much of her was actually covered in skin. She had thought it would be much less though she was glad the poor thing wasn't completely bone.

Sans panted, raising an eyebrow at the Queen. "W-what's that?"

"IS THERE SOMETHING WE DID WRONG?" Papyrus pouted.

"Oh no, dears. Not at all." she eased Papyrus’s worry with a soft chuckle. "The little babe needs a name, is all."

The brothers blinked, the youngest shrugging. "WE WERE SO BUSY STUDYING...WE DIDN'T DECIDE ON A NAME! OH NO! SHE SHALL BE NAMELESS FOREVER!"

Sans shook his head. "Nah. We'll figure something out." He was about to utter a joke before a small tug on his jacket stopped him. "Hm? What's wrong, Frisk?" Frisk waved their hand for Sans to move closer, then leaned and whispered something into his ear. Sans smile shrunk as he listened, arching his sockets then tilting his head once Frisk was finished. "Huh? Where did that name come from?" Frisk once more spoke in a hushed voice. Sans didn't quite understand what they were talking about, a weird man in the void who talked about the girl as if they knew them by heart. Frisk said they had given the babe a name before she was even born. "Well...I guess we could name her that." He scratched the back of his neck.

Papyrus whined, sounding like the baby from before. Sans now realized where she got it from. "WHAT NAME, WHAT NAME?"

Sans rubbed his daughter's chin with his finger. "Bradley Hand..." he whispered, causing the child to squint at him. She peeked for but a moment, then smiled soft and fleeting, warming the monster's heart into a melty mess. "Little, Bradley Hand." he repeated, finding that he liked it more than he had expected.

Toriel beamed, clasping her hands together. "Bradley, yes that's a lovely name!"

Asgore nodded in agreement, but cocked his head to the side. "But isn’t Bradley a boy name?"

"I IMAGINE IT COULD BE EITHER." Papyrus pondered and cackled. "YES! BRADLEY! I LOVE IT!"

Sans's smile returned, warmer and gleaming with pride. He wrapped his wounded hand around his daughter's skinless appendage, rubbing bone against bone. "Yeah," he looked to Frisk, who shared in his happiness. "I love it too."


End file.
